By Lorry Myers
I am not a farm girl, but I live in a community that depends on farmers. I don’t feed cattle, or ride a horse or own a belt with my name on it.
But I have friends who do.
One of these friends was getting married and asked me to speak at her ceremony. Of course, the event would be held in a barn full of Wranglers and belt buckles and hats with wide brims so if I was going to be a genuine part of this wedding, I needed to go all in.
I needed cowboy boots.
I stopped in Angell’s Western Wear and More on a Sunday afternoon and found Luther Angell, owner and icon, kicked back in a chair, pretending to be asleep.
“What do you want?” Luther asked, his eyes still closed.
“I need some boots.”
“What kind of boots? Work or dress?”
“I could’ve guessed that,” Luther said under his breath, but loud enough for me to hear.
“What’s your brand?”
“What do you mean?” I said, certain this was a test I was about to fail.
“What brand of boots do you usually wear?” Luther barked.
“Well…” I stammered, “this is my first pair.”
With that Luther opened his eyes, clutched his heart and said a few colorful words I won’t repeat.
Luther Angell sometimes wasn’t an angel.
I quickly spilled my story about the country wedding and how I didn’t want to stand up in fake boots or phony boots or, worse than that, no boots at all!
Impatient with my ramble, Luther slowly stood up and sighed, “Come on.”
For the complete column, see this week’s edition of the Centralia Fireside Guard.